For God and Country
by InspiredtoRead
Summary: How far is Olivia willing to go for what she believes is right? for her Country? For her President? ...Liv/Fitz pairing with possibility for Liv/other as well.
1. The Day The Earth Stood Still

The Day The Earth Stood Still

Chapter 1

**October 7, 2012**

"We've got incoming!" Huck yelled across the office as he swiftly made his way down the hall towards the conference room.

Quinn, Harrison and Abby emerged from the conference room and briefly glanced down past the office doors and at the unopened elevators. Olivia, with Stephen on her heels, slowly opened her office door and entered the hallway; she wore an expression of fatigue and slight annoyance. It was, after all, Sunday morning and while Sunday's usually proved themselves to be a "slow day" by Olivia's standards, she could not shake the feeling that this day was about to get a lot more complicated. The ding from the elevator announced an arrival and each member of Pope & Associates watched the parting of the elevator doors with a unique amount of curiosity and trepidation.

Three men, each wearing black suits and enveloped by an aura of danger, stepped off of the left elevator and walked into the office. To the untrained eye, the man in the middle seemed to be the leader. He stood tall and confident and walked slightly ahead of the other two men. His expression was serious and alert. The man to his right, similar in stature, wore the same expression. It was the man to his left, however, that caught Olivia's eye. As they continued their advance into the office, Olivia studied the man. He walked with an air of invincibility and a certain amount of blitheness. Having met some of the most important men in the world, she knew from experience that such luxuries were only afforded to men who were well protected. He exuded arrogance and power and lethal danger. He wore a stoic expression as he gazed upon her team's faces. That expression quickly gave way to amusement when Huck, glaring menacingly at the three men, shifted slightly so that he was standing a bit in front of Olivia. A small smile tugged at the man's lips and a set of dimples played a quick game of hide-and-seek in his cheeks. His eyes finally meet hers; they were intense and held a combination of recognition and intrigue.

"You are?" she asked as she met his stare head-on.

"Ms. Pope, I presume." He stated with a slight French accent while ignoring her question and extending his hand to shake hers. "I am Jasper Deveaux."

"Jasper Deveaux." She repeated as she tried to place his name. As recognition began to set in a frown appeared on her face and grew deeper with each passing second.

"I see my reputation precedes me." His eyes left her face, travelling the length of her on their way to the floor. When he met her eyes again, he smiled slowly, revealing his deep set of dimples, but his eyes were devoid of any smile. "You can't believe everything you hear."

"So then you're not an international arms dealer?" she asked boldly, gauging his reaction.

"No, that part is true. Although, I'd like to think of myself as an intermediary between those with means and the less fortunate." He answered unapologetically and without hesitation.

Olivia continued to stare at Mr. Deveaux while she decided whether to invite him and his men into the conference room, listen to his plight and then kick him out or whether to just jump to the end and kick him out now. She had a feeling that even if she wanted to, the latter option was not viable one and that he was not leaving until he voiced whatever it was he had come to say. She noted that while he didn't look like he was currently in the throes of a crisis, his eyes were so intense and troubled. They were the darkest bluish gray she had ever seen and they reminded her of clouds in a thunderstorm. In fact, while staring into them she could have sworn she saw flashes of lightening dancing across his irises.

"Quinn, show Mr. Deveaux and _friends_ into the conference room." Olivia ordered as she turned and walked back into her office with Huck, Harrison, Abby and Stephen hot on her trail.

* * *

"Are you kidding me Liv?" Abby shrieked the moment the door was closed. "We are not taking him on as a client. I don't care how gorgeous he is." Stephen shot Abby a look and Abby shrugged in response.

"We're just going to talk to him, hear what he has to say then politely ask them to leave." Olivia stated calmly. "Unless –"

"No. No unless, no." Stephen said emphatically.

"We don't know what they want, and they have guns." Huck stated simply.

"Like I said, let's go see what he wants."

* * *

"So, what exactly is it you think we can do for you?"

"As of last Friday, I was what they call a 'Artillery Procurement Liaison' to your government at which time I informed them I would no longer be of their service in that my interest have come to lie elsewhere."

"You mean you got a sweeter deal with another country?"

"Something like that," he answered while cocking his head to the side and staring at her. He quickly continued talking when he saw that she was about to speak, "Before you jump to any conclusions, it's perfectly legitimate. My contract with your government is up, I've opted not to renew and new employer is not an enemy of your government or anything of the sort. In fact, I'd dare say it's one of your closest allies. It seems however your government is refusing to take our breakup with class and move on." Although the latter part of his statement was stated with controlled precision, Olivia knew that beneath its surface was rage and resentment.

"I'm sorry but what exactly do you want us to do." Quinn asked.

With eyes never leaving Olivia, he spoke slowly and clearly, "In two weeks, unless I reconsider my refusal to renew, your President and his Department of Defense intend to label me a terrorist to the world. I am not. And I want you to stop them."

No one spoke for a full 20 seconds as Olivia watched Mr. Deveaux watch her process his words. There was something he was not saying. Labels such as terrorist, arms dealers, criminals were merely semantics to men like him.

"You know how the game is played Mr. Deveaux, today's freedom fighters are tomorrow's terrorist. Surely you were not that naïve to think that you might never be on the other side."

"I am not a terrorist."

"What aren't you saying? I can't help you, I won't help you unless I know everything." The rest of the team's heads shot towards Olivia and they stared at her incredulously. _So much for just talking._ they thought.

"My wife and daughter were killed in a targeted terrorist attack a few years ago as a result of my work. I've worked faithfully with your government to arm the opposition in countries too depleted of resources to arm themselves. Yes, I know how the game is played. But I will not be bullied; not a man or a government."

His voice became deadly as he locked eyes with Olivia, "I am not a terrorist. I will not be labeled as such. With or without your help, Ms. Pope."

"You seem like you have something specific in mind in terms of my helping you - and to be clear, I am not agreeing to help you. But what do you have in mind?"

"Ms. Pope, I'm not the only one whose reputation precedes him. I know what you do. And while I have no doubt that such tact and diplomacy will be of use to me, I am told you also have the ear of the President. I would like for you to start there."

Olivia remained stoic as her heart sped up, there was something in his eyes and voice that - while she couldn't place it - she certainly did not like it.

"I believe you are mistaken, I-"

"With or without your help."

End A/N: Continue?


	2. What's in a name?

A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews. Let me know if this story is boring...I would have no problem with just wrapping it all up and putting everyone out of their misery. Cheers!

Chapter 2

**October 23, 2012**

"Fuck That! No." Cyrus scoffed. He glared at Olivia in disbelief. He stood up, gathered his things, and headed toward the door. "This shit is getting old, Liv."

"What is?"

"You, being against us. It's getting old." Cyrus stormed out of the Oval Office and slammed the door behind him.

Olivia chuckled softly to herself at the ridiculousness of the situation. She slowly turned her head to her left and looked at the silent, brooding figured seated to her left – Fitz. He had yet to speak and while he appeared calm, he stared at her with intensity unmatched by anything she had ever experienced. Olivia forced herself to meet and hold his gaze as she waited – with thinly veiled anticipation – for him to say something, anything.

This was new to her. She was on unfamiliar terrain. She could see the wheels of his mind turning and the deliberate nature with which he regarded her. She could see him formulating a response; a well thought out, calculated, cold response. This was new to her.

"He's right," Fitz stated as he shifted in his seat to face her and lightly stroked his lips rhythmically with his fingertips. When Olivia didn't respond he continued, "This does have a familiar ring to it. "

"How's that Mr. President?" Olivia sighed softly, slightly annoyed. She was not use to being the one affected while he seemed perfectly content in the realm of indifference.

"Hmm, you do seem to enjoy being against us. Even when you don't have all the facts."

That was a low blow; one that momentarily stung Olivia. It was the sudden jab of pain that finally opened her eyes allowing her to see – really see – the man seated next to her. He was angry. Seething, actually. _Well at least it's something_, she thought.

"Then by all means, enlighten me sir."

Fitz ignored her snarky remark and instead asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for the last fifteen minutes, "Why do you care what happens to Deveaux?"

"I don't want to see an innocent man's reputation ruined."

"He's a criminal. Hardly innocent." He scoffed.

"And yet that didn't stop this government from doing business with him," Olivia's replied dryly. He was starting to piss her off.

"And yet you march in here with demands? On his behalf!" He barked as he shot to his feet. _She has some nerve!_

"Are you fucking kidding me Fitz!" She cried. She stood as well. "I'm doing my job. He is my client. He is not a terrorist!"

"So you say. But I have two departments that seem to disagree with you." He smirked. "Besides, I don't have anything to do with this. It's not my call."

"You have nothing to do with what's happening in _your_ government?" She asked while taking an involuntary step in his direction. "That's rich."

"Why should I care what happens to him?"

"I'm asking you to care," she took another small step toward him.

"That's suppose to mean something to me?" He whispered; his words halting her movement.

"He is not a terr–"

"Who is he to you?"

"He's my cli—"

"Don't say client"

"Friend"

"Friend?" He asked incredulously. _This just keeps getting better._

"Yeah, friend" she answered – shocked by the truth and ease of her admission.

He stared at her for a while; feigned indifference slowly melted away – leaving in its wake, papable sadness and fatigue.

"I'll think about it." Fitz stated as he walked toward the side entrance. "For you," he whispered softly - so softly she wasn't entirely sure she heard him correctly. He glanced at Olivia one last time before walking out unto the South Lawn toward Marine One.

* * *

**A Week Earlier**

"You've got an interesting mind, Olivia Pope."

Olivia's paused mid-sentence and looked up from the stack of papers she was currently reviewing. She was slightly amused by his outburst.

"Is that so Mr. Deveaux?"

"Oh come on now, I thought we agreed you'd call me Jax" he smiled, his dimples teasing her.

"Are you flirting with me, _Jax_?" She asked solemnly. Her question was met with a soft chuckle. "Because if you are, I have to tell you that's a really, really bad idea."

"Like I said, you have an interesting mind," he paused and picked up the file on Olivia's latest PR rebranding strategy for him, "too bad access is somewhat limited." He winked at her and laughed when she blushed.

He was insufferable and had been from day one. Words like "complicated" and "complex" did not begin to scratch the surface of all that was Jasper Deveaux. One minute he was intense – demanding an equal seat at the table, an equal voice in the formation of the strategy to protect his name. One minute it was as if he had no cares in the world – he smiled at her, flirted with her, made her laugh. One minute he looked as though he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders – he was troubled, haunted by his past; driven by forces unseen and unknown by anyone but himself.

They had quickly settled into a routine. Every morning he would waltz into the conference room with two cups of coffee only to find her hunched over pages and pages of information about his work, his relationship with the U.S. government and Confidential Intel about his life abroad. Jax and her team had yet to come to a meeting of the minds. He mostly ignored them – they were of little consequence to him; and they avoided him at all costs – they were assisting strictly for Olivia's sake, nothing more.

Although she knew she had earned his respect – his continual praise was evidence of that - she believed he was holding back. Within the first few days of working together, Olivia caught on to the fact that Jax often hid behind the perception of "openness." He only told the team what he wanted them to know, all the while making it seem as though he was an open book.

This held true for every aspect of his professional and personal life. Except for his wife and daughter. They were off-limits. There were no false gestures of frankness or cooperation. He simply refused to talk about them. He refused to elaborate any further than he had that first Sunday when he confidently strolled into Olivia's office. And when asked about them, he grew cold and deadly. Olivia's gut was on high alert and unnerved by the ease with which he seemed to be able to flip his switches on and off. Olivia secretly tasked Huck with digging into the attack; she anxiously awaited his results.

Yet, in spite the warning signs, something else outweighed it all. His heart. He was deeply flawed and morally challenged, but beneath it all, Olivia was convinced he was a good man. It was this belief in the inherent goodness of the man that caused her to dedicate her time and energy to helping him. And as much as she hated to admit it, she didn't hate his company. They had – dare she say – friend potential.

* * *

Next update: Fitz's decision and details behind the attack.


	3. D Day

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

Ch. 3 D-day pt.1

**October 26, 2012**

It was back. Fitz knew it. As surely as he knew he would take his next breath, he knew it was back. It was back to haunt him.

One moment in time – horrible enough to be incapable of being blocked out no matter how hard his mind had tried; horrible enough to have changed him, if only a little bit; horrible enough that he sometimes thought he would give up everything just to take it back.

How or why it was back, he didn't know. But he knew it was back; and with it, the day of reckoning.

He shook himself out of his reverie and glance down at the blue folder on his desk before shutting his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

He was exhausted. He hadn't slept in three days. Correction, he hadn't slept, really slept, in almost a year, but the last three nights he did nothing but pace up and down the halls of the East and West Wings of the White House. He hadn't seen Olivia in five months. When he finally did, she was a sight to behold. She was perfection. But she was also the woman who ripped his heart out of his chest and willingly gave it to his wife.

He had been angry as he sat near her and listened to her argue passionately on behalf of another man. Jasper Deveaux of all people – an arms dealer. A criminal. Her friend. Her. Friend. Fitz could not believe she had called him a friend. Even more shocking, she had meant it. He was convinced that, despite her protests to the contrary, she had no clue who this man really was.

Although his eyes were still closed, Fitz felt her before he heard her open the door and enter the Oval Office. He listened to her slowly walk further into the room and stop just short of his desk. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"Hi Liv," he said as he stood and rounded his desk and sat on its edge.

"Mr. President"

"So I thought about it."

"Thank you," she stated and eyed him wearily. When he didn't elaborate on his statement she started to speak, "and what did you dec—"

"So friend, really?" he asked, interrupting her. He had to be sure.

"Yeah, he is my friend." She sighed. "He's not perfect, but he's a good man."

Fitz chose to ignore the fact that her tone softened and a small smile tugged on her lips as she spoke of Deveaux.

"Is he your friend like I was your friend?" He asked; genuinely curious but afraid of the answer.

"First of all, you _are_ my friend." She stated firmly. They may not have been on the best of terms but she still considered him her friend. "And secondly, I don't think I've ever had a friend quite like you. Doubt I ever will." She whispered.

Her admission made him irrationally happy. He fought the smile that threatened to form but in the end he lost the fight.

"So, I've thought about it and ok," he paused as he regarded her and tried to gauge her reaction. "One condition. He's got one week to leave the country and can never come back."

"That's ridiculous!" Olivia cried. "If you're not going to label him a terrorist, then he should be free to go where he pleases. He's done nothing wrong."

"I think you're mistaking my kindness for absolution. He's still a criminal."

"Kindness? Absolution? What are you talking about?"

"Those are the terms. Take them or leave them."

"Terrorist or exile? Those are your terms? You're being unreasonable." She couldn't believe he was acting like this. _There has to be more to this_, she thought.

"You have no idea who he is. The things he's done. And yet, you defend him blindly. Humph." The irony of his accusation wasn't lost on him. Fitz was acutely aware that he could easily be talking about himself. If she only knew.

"He is a good man." She said, sounding less sure than she had a few minutes ago. Her gut was telling her that something wasn't right and it was making her uneasy.

"So you say Liv" He whispered, shaking his head softly. He handed her the blue folder and watched her cautiously open it.

He didn't have to see the content of the file to know what she was viewing. He had seen the same pictures two years before, and a few more times after that - as a reminder. He knew he was being a little deceitful by simply letting the pictures speak for themselves without adding relevant context. _It's for the best_, he thought. She needed to know. She needed to understand.

"Does he look innocent to you? Is that the markings of a good man?"

"He," she paused to get her bearings, "lied to me. He lied to me."

"I'm sorry," and he was sorry. Not for exposing Deveaux as the low-life he was, but for shattering Olivia's perception of the man. _She needs to understand_, he assured himself.

She continued to stare at the images in front of her; refusing to believe the story they were telling her. _There has to be an explanation_, she reasoned. She thought she knew – , she was startled by the ringing of her cellphone. It was Huck.

"Sorry, I have to take this. Hello? Ok. Ok. No, meet me at _Acadiana_ in 20 minutes. Ok bye."

She snapped her phone shut and restacked the pictures. Handing the folder back to Fitz, "I have to go."

"Olivia," he called after her before she was able to reach the door. "I mean it, terrorist or exile. He has a week."

"I'll let him know."

* * *

Olivia's steps held purpose. She was angry and confused and, not that she would admit it, a little scared. She was beginning to believe that maybe, just maybe, she was in over her head. Her gut had seen the warning signs. From the beginning it had told her to run as far and as fast away from Jax – Mr. Deveaux – as she could. But she hadn't listened. His intense, troubled eyes had drawn her in; and, despite her better judgment, she had wanted to fix him.

As she continued to move – seemingly on autopilot – she thought back to her conversation with Huck less than an hour earlier. She didn't have time to fully process and sort out her feeling about what she'd learned while meeting with Fitz because as she entered _Acadiana_ Huck was already seated in the back corner.

For the next 45 minutes, he briefed her on what he knew about the murder of Jax's family.

"There's not much information out there."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, whoever pulled this off had means. The 'I's are too perfectly dotted, the 'T's too perfectly crossed."

"What are you saying Huck?"

"I'm saying, I think someone wanted it to look like 'the wrong place, wrong time.' I'm saying, a local terrorist group, while conveniently taking credit, may have been set up to take the fall. I'm saying, I don't think they were the targets."

Olivia didn't know what to say. Huck's revelation didn't clear up any of the confusion currently swirling around in her head; more questions were added. Her gut told her that this somehow was the key to the whole thing. It told her that what happened to his wife and daughter would unlock the truth - revealing who he really was and what he was after. She had to go talk to him. _Does he know this? Could he have access to this information too? What does this mean?_

"Thanks Huck." She stood and turned to head for the door.

"Liv" Huck called, "It's the anniversary."

"What?"

"They were killed two years ago today. So…be careful."

She was brought back to the present as she approached the compound. At first blush, the building looked like a small embassy. Guards patrolled the grounds, guns visible.

"Can I help you?" The guard at the gate eyed her suspiciously.

"Olivia Pope, here to see Mr. Deveaux."

"Is he expecting you?"

"No, but he _will_ see me."

Next update(s): The truth behind the attack that killed Jax's wife and child, Jax's true motivations, and details behind Fitz's "one moment."


	4. Day of Reckoning

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

Ch. 4 Day of Reckoning

**October 26, 2012**

"Olivia Pope," he sluggishly stated in greeting. He leaned back in his chair – lightly scratching his stubble – and he watched her make her way into his office. She was wearing an expression of determination, disappointment tempered by confusion, and contained anger. To him, she was a sight. She was beautiful. _She used to look at me like that too, _he thought.

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

"Well...that's probably because I'm not." He continued to watch her. He was intrigued by the way she held herself, by the way she regarded him.

"Oh? You knew I'd come then?"

"Eventually, yes."

"Why?"

"Huck's back, no?" He chuckled softly at her failed attempt to hide her confusion; and he genuinely smiled as she looked at him with surprise when he said, "which I can only assume means he finished digging into my family."

His eyes held no trace of the humor his lips seemed to portray. He waited for Olivia to speak. She held his stare but said nothing. As the seconds of silence ticked by, his smile slowly deepened. It started in his cheeks – his dimples dove deeply into their nest; it moved into his cheekbones as they rose in amusement; and finally came to rest in his eyes. They sparkled with intrigue and admiration for the woman that stood defiantly in front of him. She had gone behind his back, looked into his past against his wishes, and when caught, refused to back down. _Amazing._

"Tell me, what did your president have to say for himself?"

* * *

He'd caught her by surprise when he mentioned Huck. Olivia was sure that in that moment her face had given her away. As it were, his reaction was enough to confirm her fear. She watched him smile a humorless smile and then stood transfixed as it grew into something else entirely.

He had to be the most beautiful man she had ever had the displeasure of knowing. Beautiful things didn't easily impress her but there was no denying what was a universal truth. He was beauty personified. As she stood there watching him analyze her, she noted his perfect olive complexion and full dark head of hair. His features were well defined but not in the way that made one unusual looking; no, quite the opposite, it made one want to stare forever and get lost in the perfection. Perhaps his most beautiful feature was his eyes. They were hauntingly beautiful and held a lifetime of hurt, danger, and determination. But it was his smile that could bring a woman to her knees. His smile held boyish charm and deceitful innocence and a hint of longing for something just beyond his reach.

"Tell me, what did your president have to say for himself?"

It wasn't just his voice that snapped Olivia out of her daydream; it was the way he said "your president," emphasis being _your_. That feeling in her gut – the one she'd got in the Oval Office when Fitz spoke of Jax – was back. She relayed Fitz's demand as she gauged Jax's reaction to the news.

"hmm…"

"That's it…just 'hmm'?" She couldn't read him; his expression was blank.

"Obviously I don't accept his terms," he stated evenly. "You tell him _that_ for me."

"I'm sorry?" she was confused. "We're talking about the President of the United States."

"I know exactly whom we are talking about," he paused and, staring directly into her eyes, spoke slowly and clearly "and I do not accept his terms."

She had been right all along. She knew it now. This was never about clearing his name.

"So what, you want a war with the leader of the free world? Just walk away. Renew or don't, just walk away."

"It's too late for that. No one's walking away from this." He voice became deadly. Had she misjudged him completely? Had she simply seen what she wanted to see?

"I don't, I don't understand." She sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "He said I didn't really know you. That faith in your goodness was misplaced. Was I wrong?"

"Come now, that, that right there is not fair." He pointed at her face. "You're too beautiful to ever look unsure. One of few things you don't wear well I imagine."

"If you're asking whether I've done bad things in my life, the answers yes. Very bad things. Some I regret, some I don't, some I'd do again." He leaned forward, cradling his head against his palm, "but if you're asking me whether I'm worth believing in or if I have good in me, I don't have an answer for you love. "

"Someone saw good in me once, good I never saw in myself. Someone believed in me once. And she was killed because of it. So, I don't have an answer for you."

He tiredly rubbed his face in frustration and sadness.

"Look Olivia," he paused to gather himself, "why don't you take your own advice and just walk away."

It seemed so logical. Just walk away. _Why can't I walk away_, she thought. She couldn't explain it; she just knew that if she walked away now she would regret it. She was a fixer and this man needed fixing, whether he knew it or not.

"Jax, what happened with to your wife and child?" she whispered, preparing herself for what was to come.

"Sometimes one is better off in the dark…walk away." He warned.

"What happened to them?"

* * *

"What happened to them?"

He was tired, dead on his feet. And she was lovely – so lovely. She reminded him of her so much. She was fierce and principled – a force of nature. He knew within days of getting to know her that he was screwed. He knew he'd eventually be at her mercy. He just never dreamt it would happen so quickly and with such force.

"I told you, they were killed by terrorist…"

"Actually, you said they were killed in a targeted terrorist attack. So my questions are who was the target and who were the terrorist?"

He smiled and shook his head in awe of this woman. "You always seem to ask the right questions. It took me over a year to realize those were the right questions and almost six months to finally uncover the truth."

"You were the target?"

"Yes"

"Why"

"Hubris I suppose; misplaced loyalty and trust; the usual suspects."

"What'd you do?" she quickly covered her mouth in surprise and he smiled.

"Did you know I had a brother? Yeah, my kid brother. Anyway, my brother and I were at an exchange and the deal went bad." He took on a faraway expression and she sat quietly as he relived the events.

"Some guys, Interpol type we thought, raided the place and everything went to shit. Bullets were flying, it was chaos. I honestly don't remember who fired the first shot. But my brother was shot and was laying there bleeding, just bleeding and looking at me for help." He took a ragged breath and continued, "his shooter was shot too and was on the ground gasping for air. I was, I don't know, blinded by rage and just, just walked up to him and shot him dead. Sent him to hell for killing my brother."

"Turns out he was CIA. Oops." Olivia sat up straight. _What do we have to do with this?_

"Anyway, few weeks later someone from the DOD made contact and said either I worked on their behalf or they'd issue a warrant for my arrest and charge me with the murder. I told them to fuck off and that I felt I was still due for the death of my brother.

"A month later, my whole family's dead."

"Wa-wait a minute, we didn't have anything to do wi—"

"Don't!" He roared. "Don't…not when all the proof I need, I have."

"But why? Why work for us all this time?"

"At the time I didn't know. All I knew was that the U.S. offered me immunity and resources. With my family gone, only one thing mattered – my work; continuing my fight to arm groups fighting to be free from their terror-loving oppressors.

"But now that I know, no one walks away from this."

* * *

"But now that I know, no one walks away from this."

There it was. No longer hidden behind anger and sadness, no longer masked with indifference or amusement. There it was – revenge. Now that it had a name, Olivia knew that it was revenge that she'd seen raging in his eyes the first day he waltzed into her office. It was revenge that fueled him.

"So what was all this for? Why hire me?"

"I wanted to get to know you." There it was again, that sinking feeling.

"Your government took everything from me. Hubris – with one swipe of the pen, my whole life was taken from me."

"I don't understand."

"I know my enemies. I watch my enemies. I become them so that I know what to take from them. I know President Fitzgerald Grant the Third."

Olivia stared at him in disbelief. This was not happening. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Who do you think signed the kill order? It's amazing what people will tell you, who they will betray, for the right price." She was speechless. "Like I said, hubris. A newly inaugurated president – no doubt just following the advice of his men – with no regard for the consequences, but that order killed my wife and daughter. They were innocent, they didn't deserve to die."

"Jax, he didn't, he couldn't have…what were you going to do, kill his wife and children?"

"No. Olivia, I'm not a monster. Murder seems to be his cup of tea not mine. But I want him to know what it means to lose the thing that matters most in the world."

"If not his wife or children, then what?" She already knew. But she forced the words out of her mouth anyways. This cannot be happening.

"You."

TBC.


	5. Know When to Fold Them pt1

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews I love them!...and seriously, if it gets boring, let me know! :)

Ch. 5 Know When to Fold Them pt.1

**October 26, 2012**

'_But I want him to know what it means to lose the thing that matters most in the world.'_

'_If not his wife or children, then what?'_

'_You.'_

In the aftermath of Jax's revelation everything shut down. Her eyes were open but took in no sight; her ears registered no sound; her bottom lip hung slightly, but like her nostrils, no air passed through her lips and into her body. The only sensation she was consciously aware of was a dull burning that was inexplicably intensifying. Her chest and throat were on fire and her eyes began to burn. Yet in spite of her body's natural reaction to her current state, her mind's momentary catatonic state held her faculties at bay. It wasn't until she felt the cool glass brush lightly against the side of her hand that her body was jumpstarted and she gasped – her lungs snatching hold to a much needed breath of air – and shot out of her chair.

"You look like you need this," Jax stated casually while handing her a glass of scotch.

She downed the drink in one gulp and quickly snatched the other drink from his hand, disposing of it in the same manner. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stared at him with wide eyes - ignoring his look of amusement.

"O-kay, I didn't want a drink," he said as he sat in the chair she previously occupied and silently watched her pace back and forth.

"Relax, Olivia. If I'd wanted you dead, you would have been dead long before I ever set foot in this country."

"What?" Olivia paused mid-stride, her left foot softly coming to rest beneath her. _How did I get here?_

"I see that beautiful mind of yours working. Formulating a plan of escape. I don't wish you to come to any harm." He spoke calmly and slowly as if one wrong move would send her back into shock. As almost an afterthought, he stated "As it were, I've grown quite fond of you."

"Now your president on the other hand…" Olivia tried to stop her reaction to the implied threat to Fitz, but her response was visceral. She took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm.

"I don't know what you think yo—"

"Up until this moment you've had the good sense not to deny the truth of my words. Don't start now."

Although he had interrupted her with his words, it was his expression that silenced her. She watched him watch her. His jaws were rigid, his posture stiff, and while he voice was stern, his eyes held the faintest hint of softness as they gazed on her. _Interesting. Maybe I can use that._

"Am I free to go?"

"Of course. You came here freely, no?"

She watched him relax in _her_ seat and wondered, not the first time, what was truly the end game. Up until this point, he held all the cards; possessed all the truths. _Why do I care? _She thought. She glanced at the door then at Jax then back to the door. All she had to do was put one foot in front of the other. Yet she was rooted in her spot. _Why do I care what happens to this man?_

"You know if I leave here, I'm going to go straight to him."

"I'm counting on it." he smiled, though it never reached his eyes.

Olivia harshly exhaled and silently cursed herself as she move toward him and took the seat adjacent to him.

"What do you want…really?"

"I already told you."

"Tell me again."

"Why didn't you leave just now?" he asked, ignoring her request.

"Jax…how does this end?"

"Why didn't you just leave?" She forced herself to stay still and not squirm under his intense stare. She began to feel hot and wondered if the air had been turned off.

"I, I don't know."

"Sure you do."

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for a lost soul."

"You think I'm lost do you?" She found herself staring into his eyes and was once again enraptured by how a smile so beautiful and dimples so sweet could be coupled with eyes so sad, troubled, and deep.

"Aren't you?" she asked softly, unable to break the connection between their eyes.

"Aren't we all?" he whispered as he stared deeply into her large brown eyes.

Olivia mentally shook herself and broke eye contact. "Let me help you Jax, please." She held up a hand before to silence him. "I know him. You know I know him. If your wife and child were killed on an order he gave, it was accident. H-he wouldn't have done that on purpose. He's a good man."

She saw he was about to protest her statement so she continued to speak, "Look, just give me the week. Let me talk to people, let me do some digging, let me help you. It doesn't have to end badly. Not for you…" she captured his gaze as she spoke her next words, "not for me."

"You?"

"I may have grown to…umm, tolerate…you." She tried unsuccessfully to hide her smile.

"Tolerate, huh?" he smirked. "Okay, a week. We'll see what you can do."

She rose from the chair and lightly squeezed his arm as she passed him and reached the door. Turning around, she met his eyes once again, "I'm _that_ good remember."

* * *

"Huck, I need everything you can find about the death of Jax's brother." Olivia barked into her phone. "Also, dig especially deep into the guy who Jax killed during the raid, CIA I think."

"Wait, why was CIA involved and why, if what Deveaux says is true, were they there in the first place to raid the place?"

"That's what I need you to find out. And hurry, we only have a few days before…"

"Before what?"

"Nothing. Nothing, just…hurry okay?"

"Olivia, are you okay? Did he threaten you?"

"No, no. It's not like that. He's not going to hurt me. Just hurry okay, I'm counting on you Huck."

"Consider it done Liv."

Olivia snapped her phone closed and took two deep, cleansing breaths. She needed a clear head for what she had to do next.

"Hi Morris," she flashed a smile and her newly reissued hard pass; and with singular focus, set off to make her case of a lifetime.


	6. Know When to Fold Them pt2

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

Ch. 5 Know When to Fold Them pt.2

**October 26, 2012**

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Fitz yelled at the top of his lungs. "Answer me!"

Olivia shook her head in frustration. Fitz had been yelling nonstop for the past 5 minutes with no signs of letting up. She was beginning to rethink her plan. She had barely finished telling him her conversation with Jax when he balled his face in anger and started screaming.

"Olivia Pope, you'd better answer my fucking question."

"Stop yelling at me and I will." Olivia stood up and crossed her arms.

"Ok, then…"

"Fitz, Jax…"

"Stop saying his goddamn name Olivia." Fitz began to pace as he roughly ran his hands through his hair in anger.

"He is not going to hurt me, he…"

"You don't know that! I can't believe you are being this naïve. Jesus Christ, what the hell does this guy have over you?"

"He's not going to hurt me. I know he won't."

"Damn right he wont." He was suddenly calm. "You're not going to see him again."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Never again. I mean it Olivia." He seethed.

"I'm sure you do. Just one problem, I'm not your child."

"Damn it Liv! I know who you are and I'm telling you, you are not going to see him again."

"Just how in hell do you plan on stopping me?" she challenged; Fitz was starting to piss her off. _I'm a grown ass woman._

"Olivia"

"Fitzgerald"

"Olivia, if I have to lock you up in a safe house off the coast of 'god knows where' guarded by a platoon of Marine Sentries, I will do it. So defy me and see if I'm bluffing."

He wasn't bluffing. She believed him. And yet hearing him speak as though he owned her caused her to momentarily forget the bigger goal and taunt him.

"Well, _Jax_ will just have to come rescue me then won't he," she said mockingly. Even as the words spilled out of her mouth she wished she could take them back.

"I'll kill him." He invaded her personal space, bent his knees and cocked his head until they were face to face, "do you hear me?"

Olivia stared down at the space between them and tried to control her breathing. Fitz grabbed her face with his right hand, lodging her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he framed her cheek. She was forced to look into his eyes. His eyes betrayed passion, anger, hate and most prominent of all, fear. He was terrified of losing her.

"Livie" his nostrils flared as he tried to get control over his emotions. "I can't…" His speech faltered as the curve of her lips distracted his eyes. It had been too long since he was so close to her.

"I can't lose you." He whispered softly as his eyes darted between her lips and her eyes. He loosened his grip on her face and lightly brushed pad of his thumb across her lips. His eyes darkened as her tongue darted between her lips and quickly followed his thumb's path. He slowly lowered his lips to hers but was stalled by her words.

"Fitz" she whispered against his lips, "I can help him."

She took a step back. "I have to help him. He deserves a second chance at life. He deserves to move on."

"With you?"

"Damn it Fitz. You're not listening. This is not about me."

"The hell it isn't!"

"Look, I'm just asking for access. Just a few days of access to everything the government has about the raid, the order, everything. I have to try and help him."

"What if you can't…help him? Save him, whatever. What if it comes down to him or me?"

He took a step forward, invading her space once again. "It was an accident Livie. One I wish I could take back. But what if, what if it comes down to him or me? You keep saying he a good person and he needs you or whatever. What about me, I need you."

His forehead came to rest softly against hers. "What about me Liv? Do you still believe in me? I need you."

The longing in her chest – the one that never quite went away – threatened to choke her as she stared into his eyes. He stroked her cheeks as he memorized her features.

He sighed in resignation, "You've got 5 days Liv. I mean it, that's it. 5 days to try and then that's it."

She nodded and began to step back but he tightened his hold on her face.

"Please," he whispered, "please don't fall in love with him."

His eyes held her captive. They were filled with emotion. His love for her made his eyes shine bright. His fear of losing her – from this world, from his life – made his eyes wide with apprehension.

As for Olivia, while staring into his eyes, it was as if she was looking into a kaleidoscope. The memories of their life together began to flash before her eyes. The sweet memories of their love made her smile and her eyes shine; the painful memories of betrayal made her tremble; and the memories of continuously walking away caused a lone tear to slowly slide down her cheek as her lips quivered.

"Fitz," she reached out and softly caressed the side of his face – her hand coming to rest on his neck. "I can't give him something that's not my own. My heart's not mine to give."

Her hand left his neck and traveled along his arm until it reached his hand, which was still caressing her cheek. She gently removed his hand from her face and held it softly.

"I know what I'm doing." She stated with a confidence she didn't feel.

"I hope so Livie."

He watched her gather her purse and walk out the door.

"Get Ross on the phone." he impatiently tapped his fingers against his desk.

"Ross, put two on her. Also, find out where he is – it's time he and I had a talk. Oh and Ross, one more thing, if anything happens to her, you'd better be lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Am I clear?"


	7. He Brought a Knife to a Gunfight

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

A/N: Ok so I'm really nervous about y'alls reaction *ducking*...ahh! Let me know what you think...good, bad, or otherwise. Enjoy!

Ch. 6 He Brought a Knife to a Gunfight

**October 27, 2012**

_Progress_, was Jax's last thought before his body went limp and he lost consciousness.

**Moments Earlier**

Jax never saw the man in the shadows, never saw the syringe in the stranger's hand and never saw the black hood that soon would envelop his senses.

Two weeks ago he would have never been caught unaware; he would have been on high alert; he would have been protected. Olivia Pope had changed him. Wanting to appear normal, or as normal as he could under the circumstances, he had taken to leaving his guards a block away from her office whenever he visited. Although she never voiced her discomfort, he knew she felt uneasy in the presence of his heavily armored entourage. What he did not know, however, was whether her discomfort stemmed from his men being armed or from them being reminders of who he was. Once she had commented on his men's absence and he glibly remarked that they liked the nearby park and feeding the birds. She'd just shook her head and smile in response, to which he'd clicked his tongue and winked.

It was this preoccupation with Olivia that caused Jax to enter her building without being fully aware of his surroundings. She had asked him to meet her to go over the latest development in his "case," as she liked to dispassionately refer to his situation. So there he was eager to see her and exposed. He felt the prick moments before his world went black. He didn't have to ask who was responsible for this – he knew the culprit. He also knew he'd see him soon enough.

_Well, it's about time…Progress._

* * *

When Jax came to, he had a splitting headache and his throat was burning. He squinted his eyes – allowing them time to adjust – to ward off the extremely bright light and noted the figure seated quietly in front of him.

"You know," He cleared his throat. "If you wanted to see me, all you had to go was ask."

"Yeah but…where the fun in that."

"You Americans and your flare for the dramatics." Jax leveled his gaze unto the man he'd never met yet knew intimately. This man's life, after all, had become his obsession.

"To what do I owe the pleasure…" his voice barely concealed his contempt for the man. "Mr. President"

"I thought it was time you and I had a little talk…no go between."

"Yes but what a lovely 'go between" she is…would you not agree?"

He watched Fitz's jaws clench and unclench.

"Ok…let's talk about Ms. Pope."

"No. Let's not. Let's talk about my family…the ones you killed."

"That…was an accident."

"Where I come from, we believe in an eye for an eye."

"Are you threatening me Deveaux?"

"Wouldn't dream of it sir." Jax tried to suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. His smile grew ten folds as he watched a slow, deadly smile appear on Fitz's face. He understood that Fitz had read him and was accepting to his silently launched challenge.

"Let's talk about Ms. Pope" Fitz repeated calmly.

"Olivia…" Jax inwardly cheered as Fitz flinched upon hearing her first name. "is quite lovely. Do you know her well?" He tone was unmistakably mocking.

He met Fitz's stare head on, neither man giving an inch. They stayed locked in a staring match until Fitz took a breath and asked the question that had been eating at him.

"What do you want?"

"Her." Fitz sat rigidly still and his eyes glazed over with rage. Jax lowered his eyes to the ground and said, "All of her…complete—"

* * *

Olivia exited her building more annoyed than she could ever remember being. She had every intention of marching to Jax's place and giving him a piece of her mind for standing her up for their meeting an hour earlier. As she made her way down the street she was shocked to see one of his guards sitting on a park bench feeding a flock of birds.

"Where's Ja-, I mean Mr. Deveaux?" she stated in greeting.

"Ma'am? He's in your office."

"No he's not. I've been waiting for him for over an hour."

The guard shot out of his seat and signaled for the other two men to join him.

"He walked into your building an hour ago…"

Olivia turned on her heels and began walking back to her office, not bothering to listen to the rest of the man's statement. She knew who had him. She couldn't believe he would do it, but she knew who had him.

"Olivia Pope for Cyrus Beene"

"Cyrus, you tell him to let Jax go right now"

"Cyrus," she cut him off. "I don't care how you do it, but if Jax isn't back in his office within the hour, the Jamie Lynn – your favorite Washington Post attack dog – is going to mysteriously get the story of a lifetime dropped into her lap. Do I make myself clear?"

"Within the hour." She snapped her phone shut and headed to Jax's compound to wait for him. _I can't believe he did this._

* * *

The sting from Fitz's fist registered first; then came the taste of cooper. Jax, already slouched to the side from the impact, spit a mouth full of blood on to the floor, sniffed in an attempt to relieve his nose the burning, and straighten himself in the chair. He looked up and saw Fitz hovering above him panting, eyes wild with rage.

"I hope this doesn't leave a mark." He taunted, "what will she say?"

Even knowing the blow was coming did nothing to stop the pain that shot across his jaw as Fitz punched him a second time. He used the back of his hand to wipe the blood that began to gather in the corner of his mouth.

"Leave her alone." Fitz warned. "She's…she is…mi—"

"Sir!" Both heads snapped at the sound of a new voice. Cyrus stood at the top of the stairs and glared down at Fitz. "You have a meeting you need to be in…now"

"Cyrus,"

"Now…sir"

Despite the aching in the left side of his face, Jax gave Fitz a huge smile as Fitz glared at him one final time before turning to leave. Just before Fitz crossed the room's threshold, Jax's parting words reached his ears. "Beware of those closest to you, Mr. President, for one may not be what he seems...or she."

"Take him back his office…now. And don't touch a hair, understood?" Cyrus barked at the agents stationed outside the door. _Fucking children._

* * *

"Jax!" Olivia leapt out of her chair as he entered his office.

"This is a nice surprise" He tried not to limp as he walked past her toward his desk. His ribs were severely bruised courtesy of the agents who brought him back to his office. _He did only say "hair."_

Jax sat down in his chair and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the plush cushion. His head still hurt from earlier. His eyes fluttered as he felt her soft fingertips lightly trace the bruise on his cheek.

"He did this to you." She didn't have to ask, she knew. She couldn't help but think that somehow this was all her fault. She whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" He gazed at her beneath his eyelashes and gently removed her hand from his face. Smiling the boyish smile he seemed to reserve for her, he said "besides, I provoked him."

"Why?"

"Because I could." He chuckled softly. He locked eyes with her and noticed that her eyes were open wide and glassy. "Worried about me?" he teased.

She didn't answer but rather just smiled and looked away.

"I can take care of myself you know." He openly stared at her.

"I know..." From her perch on top the desk, Olivia grew uneasy under his scrutiny and close proximity. She fought the urge to jump down, round his desk and sit on the sofa across the room. Never one to run from anything, Olivia squared her shoulders and raised her eyes to meet his. _Shit._

She watched him watch her. To say she was melting – wasn't quite right. To say she was drowning – didn't quite capture it. She was paralyzed. She was feeling everything at once. She didn't know where nervous began and panicked ended; where wanton desire began and rationality ended. She simply could not look away.

His eyes fell to her lips as he licked his own. Just as quickly, they returned to hers. Hers fell to his lips and her own parted slightly. Her eyes darted back to his face as she watched him slowly stand and step forward, just inside her space. His fingertips lightly played against her chin and began to slowly crawl up her cheek. He inched his face closer to hers, never once breaking eye contact. She felt his breath against the side of her mouth and resisted the urge to turn her head toward him.

She gasped as his lips made contact in what can only be described as a "taste." He had quickly dipped his tongue under her upper lip as his lips just barely made contact with her lip. It was as if she her lip was a ladle, containing nectar, and he'd decided he had to steal a sample. As he stepped back and eyed her, her cheeks flushed and her eyes clouded with desire. His hand slid into her hair and he once again inched his lips closer to hers, stopping just short of contact.

He waited. The next move had to be hers. His wait was short lived as she pressed her lips to his. Her lips fell apart as he nibbled and sucked on her bottom lip. On their own accord, her hands travelled up, down, and around his back and shoulders. As their tongues battled, her hands came to rest in his hair, gripping him tightly and drawing him near. She pressed against him as if trying to physically occupy the same space. _Oh my god._

In need of air, she tore her lips from his and took deep ragged breaths. She was dazed. She stared at him and tried to make sense of what she was feeling.

"Oh my god." She whispered as she covered her mouth with her hand. She wanted him; physically craved him. It was this realization that shocked her to her core. She hadn't wanted anyone – truly desired anyone – since Fitz. Sure she'd seen men she was attracted too but this was different; this was dangerous.

"I have to go."

"Olivia…"

"Jax, I'm sorry…"

"Olivia, wait…" he placed a warm hand on her waist to halt her retreat. Her waist began to burn from contact. He spoke softly and with understanding, "I'm not asking for your heart…I'm not naïve and I know and wouldn't dare try and compete."

His eyes darted to the ground and back to her face.

"That said, there's something here…" he paused and placed a finger to her lips. "you tolerate me, remember?"

"Right now…that's enough." He laughed lightly. Placing a kiss on her cheek, he removed his hand and stepped back.

She stayed rooted for a few moments as she stared at him. Then she turned around and walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.


	8. The Greater Good

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating...got busy. Also, still looking for a actor to play Jax. I know what he looks like in my head, lol, but i've yet to find an actor that fits the bill. so far he seems to be a combination of features from various ppl. :) I am enjoying all the awesome fics on here...this fandom is amazing! Anyhoo, hope you enjoy this update...let me know your thoughts!

Ch. 7 The Greater Good

**October 27, 2012**

"Liv?" Olivia was oblivious to her name being called as she continued to stare into space and contemplate her predicament. _I can't believe I kissed him. _"Olivia?"

"Hi…what?" Olivia unconsciously shifted in her seat and wondered if she looked flushed. She wondered if her eyes betrayed the turmoil building inside her. She fought the urge to touch her lips and wondered if they were still swollen from Jax's kisses. _Oh my god, this is not happening._ Olivia was sure the whole world could see that she had kissed Jasper Deveaux, and liked it. She felt exposed. She felt marked. She felt indescribably…guilty.

"Liv, are you listening to me?"

"Yes"_ No,_ she silently admitted. Sighing heavily she looked toward her door. "No, sorry."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine Huck, what were you saying?"

"I found it."

"What?"

"The smoking gun…I found it."

"And?"

"Yeah…Liv, it's…you're going to want to see this."

* * *

**August 30, 2010 (7 months into the Grant Presidency)**

In the dark of night, shrouded in secrecy, Cyrus – filled with trepidation – slowly descended the stairs onto the 2nd sublevel of the West Wing. He rounded the corner and stopped in front of the Marine who stood guard outside of the door. Cyrus was met with silence as the Marine, who had yet to acknowledge Cyrus' presence, remained at attention.

"maius bonum," was a phrase Cyrus knew well and had been instructed to repeat as a means of gaining entrance into the door behind which the Marine stood guard. He waited, with a false sense of confidence, for the Marine's reaction. Cyrus silently released the breath he was holding as the Marine turned, opened the door, and allowed Cyrus to pass. He tried not to jump as the door snapped shut behind him.

Cyrus stood in a darkened hallway that led to another door. As he walked to the second door Cyrus willed his heart to slow down and his breathing to remain steady.

For the last seven months, Cyrus was arguably the second most powerful man in the country, and possibly the world. He had the ear of the President and to most he appeared to be the President's most trusted confidant. Cyrus Beene, Chief of Staff – American Patriot Extraordinaire.

As he drew near the door at the end of the hall, Cyrus tried not to dwell on the fact that he had come back to the White House mere hours after leaving for the night, having been summoned by a trusted friend. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd failed to tell the President about this meeting or seek his approval. To Cyrus, his most important job was to protect the President – from enemies, foreign or domestic. _I'm protecting him…from himself._

Cyrus drew a deep breath, counted to three, and entered the room. His eyes had no problem adjusting to the dimly lit room. As stood in the doorway, Cyrus silently regarded his surroundings: A small table with one lamp in the middle; three chairs; no windows.

"Gentlemen," he said in greeting. He took a seat in the vacant chair across from Gen. Mark Sorrell, Director of the NSA and waited for the two Marines to exit the room. Once alone, he gazed upon his childhood friend and wondered – not for the first time, _how did I get here?_ "Mark."

* * *

"The President will understand…I'll make him understand. There has to be another way." Cyrus fought to keep his voice even. He felt sick. This wasn't what he envisioned when he dreamt of governing. This was not supposed to happen this way.

"Cyrus, this has to be done." Mark explained for the third time. "He is too valuable of an asset…and, frankly he's being unreasonable. We've offered him everything but a seat on the this fucking cabinet and still nothing."

"We did kill his brother."

"No…that fucking spook killed his brother."

"Semantics…" Cyrus countered. "Mark, this is not who we are. We're a country of choices, freedoms."

"He's not one of us Cy." Cyrus regarded his friend. This was not the man he knew growing up. This was not the man he'd served in the military with. This was not the man who'd taken a bullet for him, the man who'd saved this life. Cyrus wondered if perhaps years of governance were responsible for this; had it made him jaded?

"Mark…we are talking about…if we get caught, if this ever gets back to us…you'll be court marshaled. I'll be hung."

"Cyrus, you once believed in the greater good. You heralded it. Surely two lives are worth saving millions.

"We need him, his skills, and frankly his connections. That region looks to him as some kind of liberator, a living legend. We cannot trust him unless we control him.

"He is being unreasonable…so we take away his choice."

Cyrus did believe in the greater good. He subscribed to the notion that no one person's life was valued above another's. But hundreds, thousands, millions of lives outweighed a few.

"Fitz may be idealistic but at the end of the day he will do what needs to be done."

"You and I both know that's not true. You said so yourself."

"How would this work?"

"You get him to sign the order, I'll take care of the rest."

"No, I want details."

"You get him to sign the order – authorizing the execution of Deveaux in Nepal," Mark repeated slowly. "Meanwhile, our guy inside 'Brothers in Arms' will set up a meet with him in Bahrain. It will look last minute, unplanned, an unfortunate mistake…after all, everything else will point to him having been on his way to Nepal, travelling alone."

"Who all knows about this?"

"Various people know various pieces, just enough to get his or her job done.

"Relax Cyrus, we are on the right side of this. We are protecting this country. You are protecting our President. There is no higher honor my friend."

"The greater good?"

"Maius bonum, brother."

* * *

**October 27, 2012**

Olivia felt sick. Her gut was screaming at her, demanding her attention. _Cyrus!_

"You're saying that you found a ghost file…with traces of an email sent to someone – we can't identify…wherein someone else, we can't identify, confirmed that Jax was set to meet a rebellion leader in Bahrain the same day the CIA supposedly had intelligence that he was in route to Nepal?

"I don't understand"

"Liv…"

"No, Huck…I don't understand." She was going to throw up. "You're saying…you're suggesting…" She couldn't finish her thought, let alone the sentence.

"Liv, I'm sorry but…he knew."

"No"

"He knew and signed the order anyway."

"No" _Cyrus_, she silently screamed. "He couldn't…he wouldn't have done that."

"Then we're talking about a conspiracy…behind his back." Huck trusted Olivia and if she didn't believe the President was culpable, then he did not believe it either.

"Yeah, we are…and I know where to start looking." _CYRUS!_

* * *

"Cyrus Beene" Cyrus was on his way to meet the President. He was not leaving until Fitz explained what he was thinking kidnapping Deveaux. "What?" the voice on the other end caused him to stop in his tracks.

"I thought you said…you assured me there was no trail!" Cyrus' heart began to race.

"What was on the file?" _Shit_, he thought. "No, No. I'll take care of it…You don't do a thing." He hung up and dialed a number be swore he'd never use again.

"I need you to take care of him." Eight words, another life taken. _Dammit Mark!_

Only one person could have found this information so quickly. Only one person was looking and yet well connected enough to have succeeded. _Dammit Liv!_

* * *

_A/N: Next up: Liv/Cyrus Showdown and Liv/Fitz encounter._


	9. Everything is OK Corral

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

A/N: Once again, thanks for the awesome reviews and PMs. I'm so happy you all like the story. (fbarger, your messages were a hoot today and totally motivated me to crank this out...I put a little something in it for you...can you guess?) Ok so this update is super long by my standards anyway...hope you enjoy!

Ch. 8 Everything is OK Corral

**October 28, 2012 12:05am EST – WHITE HOUSE**

It was late. The remaining staff was skeleton at best and there was no press in sight. These were the moments of solitude that Fitz had recently grown to appreciate the most. Having no intention of retiring to the Residence while there was still a chance that Mellie was awake, Fitz had finished working for the night and gone for a walk along the grounds. As he reentered the building he immediately stilled and took a deep breath. The air was different. He detected the faintest hint of _her_. _I must be tired_, he mused.

As if compelled by a force not his own, Fitz began to slowly walk down the hall toward Cyrus' office. Despite the hour, the halls of the West Wing were deafeningly silent. The further down the hall he went, the more aware of her presence he became. _Impossible._

Just as he rounded the final corner, his steps faltered as her angry voice reached his ears. "Fuck you Cyrus!" _What the hell?_

Although she had lowered her voice, her words became clearer the closer he drew to the door. "You _will_ fix this…or I will."

"A war, Liv…really? Because that worked out so well for you last time?" Cyrus hissed.

"By all means Cyrus, underestimate me…last time, last time you were still my friend, in spite of it all…this time, you are my enemy…If you don't fix this, I will bury you."

He'd heard enough. He didn't know what was happening but figured it had something to do with Deveaux. He quietly opened the door and was shocked that his presence was unnoticed by both Cyrus and Olivia.

"Is that right?" Cyrus challenged in hopes his tone would mask the uneasiness that was beginning to slowly creep up his spine.

"Cyrus, my mentor – maker of me" Olivia sneered at him and leveled her gaze squarely on his eyes. "You tell me... Am I bluffing?"

"What the hell is going on?"

Both heads snapped toward the door. Fitz ignored Cyrus and focused on Olivia's face. Her pretty features were distorted by rage but quickly dissolved into anxiety, and fleeting signs of guilt, as her eyes met his. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as though she'd just finished running a marathon.

"Liv?" He waited for her response but none came. She merely stood, rooted in place, staring at him with wide eyes and chest heaving. "Can I speak to you in my office please?"

It wasn't until she lifted her right hand to smooth her hair that he noticed she was trembling. He took a step toward her but halted as she spared Cyrus one final glare and exited the room.

"Cyrus, you and I are going have that little chat you wanted very soon." Fitz warned as he exited the room in search of Olivia.

Cyrus exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he raced to his desk. Retrieving his burner phone, he hit redial. _Pick up, pick up, pick up! Dammit!_ It was then he noticed the light flashing, indicating he had a message. He opened the message; it read, _Done._

"Dammit!" He brought his fist down hard onto the desk once, then twice, then a third time. Pain shot up from his knuckles, through his hand and wrist, up his arm as he collapsed into his chair. "Dammit."

* * *

**October 27, 2012 11:30pm EST – WHITE HOUSE**

Olivia was furious; insane with anger. She was literally seeing red – red everywhere – as she stomped down the hall toward Cyrus' office. She didn't have a plan and she wasn't prepared; yet, nothing mattered but getting to Cyrus and unleashing her wrath.

Lost deep in the recesses of her fury she found herself silently chanting the same sentiments over and over. _I have to protect Fitz. I have to protect Jax._ The possibility that protecting one meant exposing the other resided neither in her heart nor mind. Such an outcome was simply not an option. _I have to protect Fitz. I have to protect Jax._ She was prepared to burn down the house of every man and woman involved – even her own, if it came down to it. _I have to protect Fitz. I have to protect Jax._

As she flung Cyrus' door open, she boldly crossed the threshold and silently regarded the man she once thought of as a father. Her mentor. Her maker.

"You bastard!"

**October 27, 2012 11:31pm EST – CHEVY CHASE, MD**

He sat in his den nursing his fifth scotch on the rocks. The entire room was dark except for the soft glow emanating from the fireplace. He absentmindedly poked at the fire with the poker as he took another sip. His mind was cloudy, his heart numb. He'd been gradually working toward this drunken state since he'd received the call two hours ago. _Someone found it. I'll be damned._

Although he had retired a year and a half before, he still had friends in the Pentagon. Those in high places were useful for some things; but those in low places, they were invaluable. He was a legend amongst the more seasoned Marines; but he was a god amongst the "least of them," the boots. It was through the young Mariners that he'd first attempted to find redemption. It was through their eyes and hearts, unaffected by the cynicism of politics or the true brutality of war, that he began to make right the gravest wrong he'd ever committed - one truth at a time.

_It appears fate had decided to deny me redemption after all._ He thought. _I've run out of time._

He stood up slowly and steadied himself upon his wobbly legs. He was a solider. He slowly made his way to the closest in the corner of the room and retrieved his dress blues. He was a warrior. He placed the uniform on the sofa next to a small steel box and began to undress. He was a believer in the greater good.

**October 27, 2012 11:40pm EST – WHITE HOUSE**

Cyrus was lying. Olivia knew he was lying. He knew she knew he was lying and yet he kept talking. Olivia knew that he knew she knew he was lying and yet she remained silent. She watched him. She watched his vein on his forehead bounce against his skin as he adamantly denied knowing anything about a meeting in Bahrain. She subtly observed his left eye intermittently switch – his tell – as she listened to him speak of General Sorrell.

He was lying and she would let him. He had betrayed the one person he was tasked to protect, Fitz. In spite of it all, she knew she could not expose him for the corrupt monster he'd become. Her silence was borne not out of misplaced loyalty but rather her need to protect Fitz. She had to protect him and knew that knowledge of Cyrus' deception, and the true intent of the order he'd signed, would break him. She had to protect Fitz; even if it meant saving Cyrus.

"Ok" She stated softly, her eyes never wavering from his face.

"Ok?"

"I believe you."

She was lying. He knew she was lying.

"So Gen. Sorrell, he knew?"

"I don't know. I would imagine so." He wiped his face in feigned disappointment at the antics of his childhood friend. "In any case, this looks bad."

"It does." She stared hard. "And you're going to fix it."

**October 27, 2012 11:49pm EST – CHEVY CHASE, MD**

He sank back down in his favorite leather chair and reached for his drink. The ice had melted long ago and the drink was now diluted but he found it fitting, a metaphor for his life. _I've become diluted. I was once great._ He fiddled with his cap, resting on his knee, as he stared into the fire and thought of simpler times.

He marveled at how – two years later – guilt still ate at him from the inside out. Guilt, the one variable he had not accounted for. He was a master planner, a supreme strategist and yet he failed to factor in the most human emotion. He'd overestimated his callousness and underestimated his humanity.

He sat in silence for what seemed like an hour but in reality were only a few precious minutes, barely enough time to make a dent on the timeline that was his life. He finished his drink and stood. He placed his cap firmly on his head and reached for the object embedded in the cushion of the steel box.

**October 28, 2012 12:02am EST – WHITE HOUSE**

Things had begun to calm down until he brought up Jax. At the mention of Jax, Olivia's fury returned full force. She took pleasure in the brief look of fear that danced across Cyrus' eyes, replacing the smug look that previously resided on his face.

"You will do no such thing…"

"You can't have it both ways."

'_What if it comes down to him or me?'_ She shuddered as she recalled Fitz's plea.

"You can't protect Fitz and your precious Jasper." He mocked. "Who's it going to be? Your President or your…what is he exactly? I mean we know that Fitz was to you, but Ja—"

"Cyrus…" Olivia's anger radiated throughout her entire body. Every part of her was burning up. "You listen to me…his are the only hands not covered in his family's blood. You will fix this."

"So Jax then?" He taunted, ignoring her remark and mocking her with the use of his nickname.

**October 28, 2012 12:02am EST – CHEVY CHASE, MD**

General Mark Paul Sorrell saluted the flag hanging above his fireplace for the last time. He smiled as he slowly raised the .45 gold encrusted pistol, a gift from a dear friend, to his head. Through his death he hoped to bring that which was done in the dark into the light, exposed for all to see.

"What I do, I do for God and Country." He softly chanted as he released the safety and placed the gun in his mouth. He prayed that while salvation was not to be had, he would somehow find honor in dishonor. He pulled the trigger. His body went limp and the gun tumbled to the floor. The glow from the fire reflected against the metal. On the handle it read, _Maius Bonum – C.B._

Those in neighboring houses heard the sound of a single gunshot resonate through the night. Multiple 911 calls were made and the incident reported. One man, dressed in black and tucked in the recesses of the shadows in the hall leading to Gen. Sorrell's den, placed the noose back in his bag and quietly snuck out the same way he'd snuck in. _Easiest assignment ever._ He mused. As he glided down the street in the shadows, he pulled out his phone and texted a simple message: _Done._

* * *

**October 28, 2012 12:08am EST – WHITE HOUSE**

She knew Fitz was waiting for her to say something but she could not find the words. She also could not stop trembling. She was tired and angry; tired and sad; tired and guilty. So guilty. Her eyes began to water. _Stop shaking!_

He took a step toward her and she took a mirroring step back. He took another step in her direction and she took a giant step back, her butt meeting the edge of his desk. He closed the distance between them, stepping into her personal space, but he did not touch her. His eyes searched hers and she fought to keep her eyes open and not look away.

She thought of all that had transpired the past few weeks and all that she had learned. Fitz…her Fitz was good – perhaps the best. He was pure in his thinking and innocent in his idealism. He was surrounded by sharks, vultures and she'd left him unprotected.

"_You left remember?" Cyrus sneered. "You claim to know me so well, know what I'm capable of…why did you leave your precious Fitz unarmed, vulnerable to me?"_

Cyrus had mocked and taunted her with his words earlier. At the time she'd put on a brave face, her anger numbing her senses. But now, staring into the eyes of the man she loved, Cyrus' words cut her to the quick. _He was right._ Unable to stop them, tears began to stream down her face.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry." She could see that her words confused Fitz. She too was confused.

Fitz pulled her into his arms and held her tight. He softly kissed her hair in a gesture meant to be consoling but only served to make her cry harder.

"I'm so sorry." She mumbled over and over into his chest. Home. She was home. The realization of this truth stripped away the last of her defenses and she suddenly felt everything at once. It all became too much to bear. The anger and disappointment in Cyrus. The loneliness and desperation of having denied herself Fitz. The guilt over her feelings for Jax. The frustration at how she was going to fix this mess and save these two men. The guilt over the necessary lie she had to keep from Fitz. It was all too much. She didn't want to fight anymore. She prayed for a reprieve and it was granted as Fitz pulled away just enough to speak softly to her.

His words didn't register as she stared at his lips. She needed relief, if only for a moment. She needed clarity and sanity, no matter how fleeting. She reached out to him and brought his head down to hers.

"Please," she whispered softly before pressing her lips to his. Simple contact. Healing contact. She sighed in relief at being in his arms and moaned when he captured her top lip between his lips. She threaded her fingers in his hair and pressing against him, impossibly close. Their kisses grew frantic as she leaned back against the desk, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. Fitz's left arm pulled her flush against him while he right arm swept across his desk, knocking all that stood in its path to the ground. The sound of items crashing caused them to pause momentarily and take in much needed air. She stared at him with such need and love that it took his breath away. He lifted her onto the desk and she wrapped her legs around his waist as she lay back against the surface, bringing him with her. As their tongues, teeth, and lips teases, nibbled, and sucked, their hands roamed.

She was hiding. Hiding in him; hiding from him. She reached for the buttons of his shirt only to be halted by his fingers softly wrapping themselves around her wrists.

"Liv…" Fitz desperately tried to catch his breath. _This isn't right._ "Liv, talk to me."

She reached for him again, and began kissing his neck – her hands dancing over his chest, shoulders, and back. He moaned and closed his eyes against the onslaught of sensations.

"Liv…" He said more forcefully and stepped away. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

"Nothing" she lied. She sat up and slid down the front of the desk, her feet hitting the ground. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing and talk to me goddammit." She was starting to scare him. He knew she was lying. As much as he wanted her kisses he knew she was hiding something.

"Nothing…" she snapped. "I have to go."

She sidestepped him and darted out of the door before he could say another word.

* * *

A/N: So what do you think, can she somehow save both Fitz and Jax? Can she tell Jax the whole truth and still protect Fitz? :) Do u think she's fully aware of her motivations for wanting to save each one? also, anyone else find it deliciously ironic that Cyrus is saddled with another death even tho the general killed himself...talk about "be careful what u wish for" huh?


	10. A Lie, By Any Other Name

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

A/N: Sorry for the delay...work, family, and good ole writer's block got in the way :). Here's the next bit...hope you enjoy!

Ch. 9 A Lie, By Any Other Name

**October 28, 2012 6:15am **

Every part of Olivia's body ached. Nervous balls of energy bounced up, off and against every inch of her skin causing her entire body to tingle. She involuntary twitched, her upper body intermittently jerking as she dry heaved over the toilet. Sweat tricked down the sides of her face, mingled with silent angry tears, and pooled along her collarbone. She placed her face, heated from exertion, against the cool tile on the bathroom floor and tried to catch her breath. The pounding in her ears drowned out the sound of the pounding on the other side of the bathroom door.

"Liv," Huck called softly. "You okay in there?" He heard muffled sounds from inside the bathroom but couldn't make out her words.

"Olivia, you open the door!" Abby sternly instructed. Huck had called Abby to the office so that she could help Olivia, should she need it, while he tracked down the leak. "You can't possibly have anything left in your stomach to throw up. Open this door!"

"I just…just give me a minute, please." Olivia begged. "I just need a minute."

Olivia sat up and moved so that her back was against the wall. She pulled her knees to her chest and hung her head. She reflected on all that had occurred within the last six hours.

She'd flown, like a bat out of hell, out of the Oval Office. She knew she was wrong for leaving as suddenly as she did but she couldn't stay. Fitz wouldn't let her hide, which meant she was exposed; and her emotions were too jumbled, and she was too weary, to be emotionally bare in that moment. So she ran. On her way back to the office she called Huck, knowing that despite the hour he would be at home – since she'd insisted he leave the office – awake, waiting to hear from her.

'_Erase it.' she said in greeting._

'_All of it?'_

'_Yes'_

'_Are you sure, Liv? We're talking about everything linking the United States to Deveaux. We're talking about the order, the ghost file, all of it. Are you sure?'_

'_Yes. Jax can never know about the…' She couldn't finish the sentence._

'_Ok'_

'_Huck, I don't care if you have to crash the entire system...'_

'_I got this. Consider it done.'_

_Just before she hung up she added, "oh, and find the leak, shut him down and…out him.'_

'_Ok'_

'_Thanks'_

She hadn't been able to fall asleep so she paced until 3 am at which time exhaustion got the better of her and she passed out on her sofa. A little before dawn, Olivia's restless slumber had been interrupted by the sound of Huck entered her office and turning on the television. Sleep no longer tugged at her as she shot to her feet and stared at the screens in horror.

'_General Sorrell, dead in an apparent suicide…' _

_NO! _She'd silently screamed. Bile rose within her and burned her throat as she thought of Cyrus and cursed him for he cold, callous stupidity. _NO!_ Without a word she quickly moved passed Huck, into her private bathroom, slammed the door and dropped to her knees, violently emptying the contents of her stomach.

"Olivia," Abby snapped Olivia out of her reverie. She slowly rose to her feet and opened the door.

"Where's Huck?" She asked as she turned toward the sink. She rinsed her mouth out and splashed cold water on her face.

"He said something about plugging a leak." Abby answered as she handed Olivia a towel. "You ok?"

Olivia ignored her question and made her way back to the television screens.

"Oh my god…" she breathed. She drowned out everything but the anchor's voice and willed her mind to stop racing.

_Suicide Note._

_Admission of culpability in the death of Jasper Deveaux's family._

_Apology to Nation and the President._

"My god." She repeated. _How convenient,_ she thought dryly.

"_While the government is still reeling from the news of Gen. Sorrell's death and the contents of the note, we're told that the Secretary of State is expected to reach out to this Mr. Deveaux with an unprecedented apology on behalf of our country…"_

Olivia was no longer listening to the anchor. She noted the irony in her request to Huck that all links between the U.S. and Jax be erased. _Jax!_

Olivia quickly moved to her desk and dialed his number. No answer. She wondered if he'd seen the news and worried about his reaction to the recent developments. She quickly gathered her things.

"Abby," she paused at her door, "I'll be back. I have to check on J—"

"No." Abby's forceful interjection momentarily silenced Olivia.

"No?"

"I just mean…we should wait until we know more. It's early, both literally and figuratively."

"So what…I have to go."

"Liv," Abby paused, not knowing how to continue her statement.

"I _have_ to go." Olivia repeated, the desperation in her voice not lost on either woman.

* * *

"Redecorating?" Olivia asked softly as she walked into Jax's office.

His office was stuffy, dark, and gloomy, a direct contrast to the beautiful sunrise that was occurring on the other side of the blinds. Olivia stood by the door as her eyes adjusted to the room. Broken glass littered the floor and it reeked of alcohol. Books were strewed about and the contents of his desk were scattered across the floor. It looked as though a hurricane had swept through his office, destroying everything in its path. Olivia took a moment to appreciate the fact that less than a day ago – in this very office, while her lips and arms were wrapped around Jax – her emotions had been victim to another kind of hurricane; its devastation leaving an eerily similar path.

She located the source of the destruction slumped over on the sofa to her left. She silently regarded him and a raw panic slowly started to spread through her body.

It was clear he was drunk; that much she could smell from where she stood. He looked tired. He looked broken. His hair was disheveled, as was his appearance. He was sporting a day old beard and his cheeks were stained with dried tears.

"Jax?" She stepped toward him.

"Jax?" She stepped closer.

"Jax?" She reached out to touch his arm only to be stalled by his words.

"Don't." his voice was raspy and his eyes were closed. "Don't."

"What's wrong?"

"Olivia, why are you here?" His eyes remained closed as he took a sip from his glass.

"What's wrong?" She asked again, this time taking his glass from him and setting it down on the table. His eyes snapped open and he level his gaze on her. She tried not to gasp at the torment and despair reflected in his eyes. She sat next to him and touched his arm lightly. She whispered, "talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is…great." He smiled a sad smile that did not reach his eyes. "This is a little tradition of mine."

"To get pissy drunk, first thing in the morning?"

A quick humorless smile danced across his face. "That's right."

Olivia didn't respond but just sat quietly beside him and watched him. She knew she should probably leave. It was clear he hadn't seen the news yet so her reason for coming over was no longer relevant. Yet, she made no attempt to get up from her spot on the sofa and walk out. Instead, she reached for his hand and held it softly within her own.

"Jax?"

"hmm"

"What's today?"

He was silent for a beat. When he finally answered it was barely above a whisper.

"Today's her birthday…My wife, Sephina, was killed two days before her 35th birthday."

Jax made no attempt to wipe the tears that spilled from his eyes.

"We had a party planned in Nepal. It was going to be lovely." He paused, seemingly lost in a memory. "We fought the day before she died, because she was worried my going to Bahrain meant I'd miss the party.

"I didn't…miss it, that is. Only the party we envisioned became a damn memorial."

Tears flowed freely down his face. Olivia heard the anguish in his voice and discreetly wiped away the tears that fell from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you Jax."

"Yeah well…" he paused and stared at her intently. "You're very much like her you know. Very much…and yet different. I see why he fell for you." He reached over and caressed her cheek with his free hand, "how could he not."

"When's the last time you slept?" She needed to change the subject.

"Why did you come here?"

"Jax, when is the last time you slept?"

"I don't know."

She moved to the far end of the couch and tugged on his hand still intertwined with hers. "Come on," she said, while patting her lap.

He lied down, his head resting in her lap, as she ran her fingers through his hair, her fingertips massaging his scalp.

"Sleep," she crooned.

"Olivia, why did you come?" He sluggishly asked again.

"Shhh…just sleep. I'll tell you everything when you wake up" she lied.

Olivia knew that when he woke she would have to look him in the eye and lie. She would lie in order to save him. She would lie in order to give him peace. She would lie because although he deserved the truth, he deserved a second chance at life more.

"Olivia," he sighed her name.

"Yeah?"

"You can't save me." It was as if he read her mind.

"I can try."


	11. What Never Was Can Never Be

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

Ch. 10 What Never Was Can Never Be

**October 28, 2012 6:55 am - Silver Springs, MD**

_Dammit_, _I'm too late._ Huck silently cursed as he stared at the computer screen_._ He roughly swiped the mouse to the right, highlighting the lone message in the sent folder titled 'Absolution: The truth shall let you free.' There was no need to check the name of the recipient; Huck instinctively knew who'd been on the receiving end of the email. He retrieved his phone from his front left pocket and texted Olivia his findings, assuring her that the plan was in motion.

Upon hearing the shower being turned on Huck stood up and went to work. He meticulously laid out his tools and set the scene. He moved back to the computer and began fiercely type. He then removed the service handgun from behind the bookend and disassembled it with ease. He periodically glanced at the computer to assess the progress. With the room set up, he sat back down and waited. As luck would have it, the shower was turned off seconds after the confirmation of the completed hard-drive wipe appeared on the screen.

Huck turned toward the sound and took a deep breath. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as an euphoric feeling began to spread through his body.

"Who the hell are you?" Private First-Class Tim Peterson asked, rendered immobile at the sight of Huck seated at his desk.

"Your worst nightmare." Huck looked upon the young man and watched as Peterson regarded him with wide, nervous eyes and trembling hands. "And your salvation…all wrapped in one."

Huck remained stoic as Peterson discretely reached for his hidden gun. "hmm, missing something?" He held up the gun's magazine and motioned to the table across the room where the dismantled pieces of the gun lie.

"Now, put on this uniform…you've got work to do."

"W-work?"

"You're going to help right a wrong..." Huck noticed that the Private had yet to move from his spot. "Put on the uniform; I won't ask you again." Huck warned.

Resigned, Peterson walked over to the chair that held his dress uniform and began to get dressed.

"Tell me about Gen. Sorrell…"

* * *

7:30 am – The White House

Cyrus was no longer listening to the frantic tech on the other end of the phone. He stared at his computer screen in disbelief as he futilely searched for any remnants. _It's all gone. Shit! Ok, ok…don't panic. SHIT!_

His head snapped toward the door as he watched Fitz enter his office, closing the door behind him. He waited in silence for the President to speak but Fitz simply stared at him – hard.

"Sir?" Cyrus questioned when the silence became too loud.

"What did you do to her?"

"Who?"

Cyrus' question was met with silence and a look.

"Olivia? Nothing."

"Hmm…"

"It was just a misunderstanding."

"Cyrus," Fitz began – his tone not lost on Cyrus.

"It was a misunderstanding."

Fitz stared at Cyrus. His normally "cool under fire" Chief of Staff looked rattled. Fitz knew that whatever was going on between Cyrus and Olivia had to be huge because Cyrus was never rattled.

"I'm sorry about Sorrell." Fitz relented. He noted with interest the fleeting expression that played across Cyrus' face. "Maybe now this whole Deveaux thing can be put to bed."

"Thank you sir." Cyrus gazed at a spot on the ground. "He was a great man."

* * *

**Meanwhile – Silver Spring, MD**

As Huck listened to Peterson's story he felt the tiniest amount of empathy toward him. He too had been taken and molded into something that he had not asked for. He too had been led to believe that his actions were in pursuit of something greater, something more. The feeling of mutual understanding was fleeting, however, and Huck allowed himself to feel pleasure in the terror he'd placed in Peterson's eyes.

"Feel better?"

"W-what?"

"Truth set you free?" Huck didn't wait for an answer for he knew one would never come. He stood and walked toward Peterson. The closer he got the more pronounced Peterson's trembles became. Beads of sweat formed across Peterson's forehead and along his upper lip.

"I'm going to need two 'confessions' from you…neither of which will be the story you just told me." He checked the camera set up in the corner.

Peterson's body snapped to attention as he trained his eyes on Huck. He raised his chin defiantly. Though no words were spoken, Huck heard his protest loud and clear.

"That's it," he spoke slowly. "You dig deep. Draw on that Marine discipline ingrained in you. Call on that soldier this fine government trained you to be. Draw on it…and do what I'm telling you to do. Do it clearly and with conviction…no funny business."

"And if I refuse?"

Huck walked closer to him and began to pant as Peterson involuntarily shrank back in fear. Pleasure coursed through him and he relished the feeling of the high.

"Then I'll draw on what the government gave me." Huck whispered cryptically. "Trust me, you don't want to see the monster they've created." He warned.

* * *

**9:20 am**

_Olivia snuggled deeper into the chest beneath her. She felt safe and at peace. She resisted the pull of consciousness as she purred with contentment. She moaned in protest in response to the shift beneath her. Her eyes fluttered open as a hand softly caressed her cheek._

_"Fitz," she whispered as his shinning grey eyes met her sleepy brown ones. _

_"Morning baby." His hand leisurely travelled up and down her exposed back._

_"Mmm, I missed you." She purred._

_"Wake up Olivia." She looked at him with confusion but he simply smiled lovingly at her._

_"What?"_

_"Wake up."_

_"No"_

_"It's going to be ok." He said with a soothing tone. "Wake up."_

_"No." She cried stubbornly. "Fitz, don't leave me."_

_"Wake up Livie" He whispered._

Olivia shot up and looked around in confusion. She wasn't in her office, nor was it her couch she'd fallen asleep on. _Jax._

She stood and fixed her clothes. Jax was seated behind his desk gazing out of the window.

"What did you want to tell me Olivia?"

Although he'd yet to turn around, Olivia heard the edge in his tone. Something was up.

"I came to check on you." She stated cautiously.

"Why?"

"Jax," she was met with silence. "Jax, look at me."

He turned around and gazed at her. Olivia fought to keep eye contact. She needed him to believe her next words.

"Well?"

"The man who killed your wife and daughter died today."

"I know."

"He admitted to targeting you and took responsibility for botching the job. He also made it clear that his actions were not directed by nor sanctioned by the President."

"You believe him?"

Olivia called on every ounce of her being, every ounce of what made her Olivia Pope and said, "Yes I do."

He stared at her for a moment as if he were trying to read her. "How do you explain the memo then?"

_Shit! _She fought against the panic that began to rise within her. "What memo?"

"This memo." He spun his computer around towards her. His eyes grew hard as he watched her.

"I don't know, I don't know anything about this memo." Her voice held the slightest hint of doubt. "I believe him Jax." She said with conviction. "Someone out there is messing with you. Someone wants this to haunt you, to torment you."

Again he watched her, looking for even the slightest sign of dishonesty. Instead, all he saw was concern for him reflected in her eyes.

"Yeah," he said with resignation. "I received a video a few minutes before you woke up."

"Yeah?" _Please. Please._

"Yeah, some kid…admitting to being the guy sending me the inside information. He said it was on the Sorrell's orders because Sorrell felt guilty for what he did all those years ago.

"He also swears he wrote the memo in anger as a response to Sorrell's death but that it holds no truth."

"You believe him?" She held her breath, awaiting his response.

"No, not completely." He stared at her with such intensity that it took her breath away. "But I will…if you tell me it's true."

"Me?"

"Yeah, tell me it's true and I'll believe it."

She wanted desperately to hide from his gaze. His desperation was palpable. It threatened to choke her. His eyes glistened with need.

"Yes," she whispered – her gaze faltered slightly. "It's true."

He searched her eyes. His need to believe her was met by her need to convince him. "So now what? How do I just walk away?" He asked quietly.

"You make peace. You heal. You move on." She closed the gap the sat on the edge of the desk. She placed her hand on top of his and squeezed lightly.

"I don't know that I can..."

"You can. You have to. You are an honorable man Jasper Deveaux; a good man. You will let go because vengeance can no longer be yours. He's dead. To do anything less than letting go would be dishonorable; and you, Jax, are an honorable man."

"Still trying to save me I see." He chuckled lightly and turned his palm upward, lacing his fingers through hers. "Do you think that maybe…another place, another time?"

"If I'd met you first…yeah." He genuinely smiled at her response. His eyes lit up with adoration.

"He's a lucky man…your president." He stated softly. "As undeserving as he may be."

"Jax…" Olivia warned as she idly played with his fingers.

"I'd move heaven and earth to be with you." He whispered.

"I love him. It's not a choice, it's…it just is. I love him."

"Like I said, he's a lucky man." He smiled at her and gazed at her from beneath hooded lids.

"So what's next for you?"

"I'm going to go home. Recharge and…I don't know." He stared at their intertwined hands with a pensive expression. "Heal, I guess."

She stood and pulled him up with her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me too." He whispered into her hair. Pulling back enough to look into her eyes he stated, "Olivia, if you ever need anything, anything at all, it yours. All you have to do is ask."

"Thank you Jax."

"And if you ever in Paris…" His dimples teased her.

"Yeah yeah." She laughed as she walked toward the door.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "It's been bugging me from the beginning but, how did you know about me and Fitz?"

"I've got to maintain some sense of mystery, no?" He teased, winking at her. "Let's say a picture's worth a thousand words when viewed in the right context."

She shook her head at his antics. "Fine, don't tell me."

"I can assure you darling, no one will ever hear the truth from me."

"Goodbye Jax."

"Until next time Olivia."

* * *

a/n: up next – Liv/Cyrus final showdown and Liv and Fitz meeting. Two confessions and Huck's text, does Liv have a plan? Next chapter will be named "Pay the Piper"


	12. All Must Pay the Piper

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

Ch. 11 All Must Pay the Piper

**October 29, 2012 4:15 am – Pope & Associations**

"You sure?"

"Yeah"

"Watertight?"

"Yeah"

"Ok." Olivia exhaled slowly and relaxed for the first time in 18 hours. "I trust you."

"I know." Huck said. "Want to run through it again?"

"If you don't mind."

Three dry runs later, Olivia was finally convinced it was ready. Olivia and Huck had gone over every crumb of evidence, followed and critiqued every trail they formed, and gone through every door the evidence opened. It was flawless. Every detail was authentically inauthentic. It was a masterpiece; Olivia's very own Sistine Chapel. It was beautifully complex and yet diabolically simple.

For Olivia, this was the work for which all other work was mere preparation. _Cyrus would be proud._ She shook her head sadly at the thought. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. In fact, it weighed heavily on her heart and mind. She rubbed her tired eyes as she watched the first rays of sunlight illuminate her office.

"Liv?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Huck's voice was filled with concern.

"I'm fine."

"We've been at this nonstop since yesterday morning. A few hours won't hurt."

"Huck, I'm ok…promise." She looked at him with sad eyes and smiled a small, strained smile.

"What do you need?"

"A time machine." She chuckled softly at the sweetness of his request and the impossibility of her answer. "I just need to get this over with." She stood and stretched her sore muscles. Nodding to herself she said, "I'll rest when this is over."

She leaned over her desk and once again thumbed through the dossier, reaffirming that everything was in order. Huck cleared his throat and shifted his weight.

"What's on your mind?"

"I was thinking," He paused, as if warring with himself. "umm, do you think…"

"What?" Olivia put the folder down and turned to fully face him. She waited patiently, knowing that he would voice his concern in his own time and in his own way.

"Do you think...that…maybe, umm, you could find something for the kid to do around here?"

"He doesn't want to disappear?"

"Not unless he has to."

"You trust him?" The Private had proven to be very helpful and Olivia could see that beneath it all he was just a misguided kid who'd placed his trust in the wrong person.

"I was him; before I was me, I was him." His stated softly.

"Another stray huh?" Olivia smiled at Huck, proud of the personal growth and maturity he was displaying.

"We have plenty of room."

"Yeah, we do."

* * *

**8:25 am – The White House**

_Hubris_. Olivia shook her head ruefully as she sat on the sofa along the wall in Cyrus' office. She had no doubt that Cyrus knew she would come. Yet, he'd allowed her to waltz, unfettered, on to the White House grounds, into the West Wing, and into his unattended office. Either he was distracted or unconcerned by whatever he thought she would have to say. She was sure he'd expected her to storm into his office yesterday making demands and accusing him of killing Gen. Sorrell. Instead, she had not made contact with him at all. She wanted him to sweat, she wanted him to squirm, she wanted him to formulate a plan; she wanted him at his best.

Olivia was surprised at how calm she felt in the lion's den. Her mind was at ease, her heart serene. Unlike their last encounter, she had a plan, she was focused, and more importantly, she knew she was doing the right thing. She had perfect peace; and it felt good. She glanced down at her watch and took note of the time. She knew first hand that Fitz's morning briefing should have concluded by now which meant Cyrus was on his way back to his office. She took a deep breath, steeled her resolve, and prepared for war.

* * *

He felt her presence before his eyes landed on the file on the table. Closing the door quietly behind him, he slowly turned to his right and eyed the woman he loved as his child, admired as a colleague, and feared as a formidable foe - all in equal measure. Holding her stare for a moment and with a nonchalant air, he turned and walked to his desk.

"I expected you a day ago." He sat down behind his desk and rested his head on top of his interlocked fingers.

"Hmm" Olivia nodded in acknowledgement and continued to stare.

"I assume you want something or came to say something." Cyrus watched her closely, paying close attention to every detail. When it became clear that Olivia was not going to speak, Cyrus switched tactics.

"Seems like everything worked out, wouldn't you agree"

"Seems so."

"Mr. Deveaux is no longer an enemy, he received a nationally public apology, and I'm told both Secretary Royce and the President personally called him yesterday to apologize." Cyrus couldn't read Olivia. Her body held no tension, her face no clues; yet, her eyes held the slightest hint of fire – a simmer, well on its way to a rolling boil.

"So all's well that ends well."

"All's well that ends well?" Olivia echoed quietly. "I suppose that's one way to look at it." She sat up in her seat and smoothed her pant legs with her hands.

"Tell me, Cyrus," She looked up and locked eyes with her old friend. "When did you stop seeing me as a woman of my word?"

Met with his confused expression, she pressed on. "I told you 'either you fix this or I would.' Did you think I was joking?"

"Look Olivia, like I said, everything worked out. Jax gets to go home with a clear name and the most powerful country in the world in his debt."

"A man is dead, Cyrus."

"I know that." He snapped. "He was my friend. And I – more than anyone – am saddened by, not only his death, but the fraud he perpetrated on me and the President."

"Cyrus," she scoffed. "There's no need. The convenience of it all is not lost on me, believe me."

"Just what are you implying?"

"Nothing that you don't already know."

Something in her voice caused Cyrus to become alert. There was a calm fury and confidence that cut him to the quick. Something was not being said and he knew it. He had the distinct feeling that the other shoe was about to drop.

"Cyrus," His eyes snapped back to hers. "You're going to resign."

"Th—"

"Effective immediately."

The matter-of-fact tone with which she spoke her words caused Cyrus' blood to boil. "The hell I am." He was ready for this fight. He would teach his mentee some respect and remind her from whence she came.

"If that is all you came to say, I'm sorry you wasted the trip. Get out."

"You told me…" She ignored his request and continued. "You told me that I left Fitz vulnerable when I left him in your charge…You were right, and I intend to fix it."

"Is that right?"

"Cyrus, you _are_ going to resign."

"Or what?" He was growing tired of her game. He wanted to yell at her but knew it would betray his apprehension.

"I'll tell Fitz – and the world – what you did."

Cyrus chuckled at the ridiculousness of her statement. He would teach her to heel. He would break the unbreakable Olivia Pope.

"I'm sorry," He laughed openly at her. "You're going to tell him what exactly?"

"Oh you know…just that you killed Sorrell, you conspired to have Fitz murder an innocent woman and child." Olivia uncrossed her legs. "Just to name a few things."

"Olivia," His smile waned as he watched his cavalier attitude have no affect on her. "I taught you better you this." He had taught her. And because she had been his best pupil, panic and dread began to creep up his spine.

"Yes." She slowly rose to her feet and picked up the folder. "Yes, you did teach me better than to make empty threats."

She stalked toward his desk, maintaining eye contact.

"So imagine my surprise when I found out you killed your childhood friend."

Digging into the folder, she retrieved two bank statements and tossed them on his desk.

"Sorry, I meant to say, you hired a Charlie Manson – very original, by the way – to kill your friend. And that wasn't the only transfer you made wherein someone conveniently ended up dead, but I digress."

Cyrus blanched despite his best efforts. He picked up the bank statements and stared at them in disbelief.

"Imagine my surprise when I found out you received a memo – highly classified, and addressed to you – from a high ranking official in the NSA confirming Jax was set to attend a meeting in Bahrain the day his family was killed in Nepal."

She tossed the memo on to the desk.

"And if that wasn't enough, I was sickened _sickened_ to find phone records and transcripts between you and Sorrell and you and several members of the CIA discussing and orchestrating the attack on his family."

A thick stack of transcripts landed with a loud thud on his desk. He picked them up and thumbed through them. _What the hell?_ He thought. They were all date-stamped and accompanied by the sworn affidavit of an IT employee of the Grant Administration.

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. _What the hell is she trying to pull? _These were fakes. How could she not know these were fakes? He was being set up. _She's setting me up!_ He was no longer listening to her words. Instead he searched her face for any signs of deception, but found none.

"…to think you threatened the life of a poor defenseless kid and coerced him into leaking highly classified documents…" _What is she talking about?_ "Really Cyrus, you've lost your way."

Another set of transcripts, along with photos of Cyrus and Private First Class Peterson, landed on his desk. _Who the hell is this kid?_

"And the most damning of all, Cyrus, the kid confessed to it all...your threats, his leaks, everything...on video."

She tossed a thumb-drive onto the stack of transcripts.

Cyrus shot out of his chair and backed away from her as if he'd been physically burned.

"Y-you," his mouth opened and closed several times as he stared at her. "You, you made this up."

"Did I?" Her eyebrows rose.

"Yes" He cried incredulously. "None of this is true. You have no proof."

"'Truth is what I say it is.' You once told me that." She gestured toward the mounds of papers on his desk and said, "and as for proof, you're looking it."

Slowly Cyrus began to smile. He had one card left to play and he would play it from the bottom of the deck.

"You would break his heart with this? You'd break his heart just to spite me for, what, hurting your Jax's feelings?"

_Check_ – Point, Cyrus.

"You and I both know I would break his heart if it meant protecting him." Olivia crossed her arms and glared at Cyrus. "What you did, it is unforgivable."

They both knew she was not taking about the farce that lie before them on his desk, but rather his transgression, his betrayal, two years ago.

_Check – _Point, Olivia.

"And what about Jax?" He ignored her barb, determined to get his point across. "You would put him on a course of self-destruction, likely death, by putting a target on the President's head?" He smirked as he leveled another blow, "Fitz did sign the order. And who will believe he didn't know about the memo? Certainly not Jax, not after he finds out you knew it was real and lied."

He watched guilt fly through her eyes. "Ahh, you did lie to him. How sweet."

_Check_ – Point, Cyrus.

"Cyrus," she began slowly. "Let me be clear, when I'm done with you, keeping your job will be the least of your worries." She leaned in towards him. "I suspect you'll be too busy trying to figure out how to avoid the death penalty. Especially once I finish providing the DA with insurmountable evidence."

_Checkmate_ – Game, Olivia.

_Would she really do this?_ He thought. He was rocked by the fact that he did not know the answer to his question. He had crossed a line. He had betrayed the person she'd entrusted him to protect in her stead. He had underestimated Olivia. He had underestimated her need to protect and fight for that which she loved. He was on the wrong side of this fight.

"So what now?" He asked dejectedly. "I resign and what, this goes away?"

"You resign; you make it clear to him that you want a lifestyle change, that an Ethiopian baby is just what the doctor ordered. You make him believe, make him accept it. You do that, and yeah, it goes away."

Cyrus sat back down and absentmindedly leafed through the "evidence" against him.

"You wouldn't happen to have my resignation letter already drafted, would you?"

"As a matter of fact I do." She placed the letter and a pen in front of him. Had he not been on the receiving end of things, he would have marveled at how beautifully she'd outplayed him at his own game. She truly was his best work.

His eyes began to sting as he thought of how far off course he'd gone. This was never part of the plan.

"I never meant for this to happen." He scribbled his signature on the line and handed the letter to Olivia.

"Power has corrupted greater man than you Cyrus."

She placed the letter into an envelope and put it back in the folder. Pointing to the papers on his desk, she said, "Do with them what you will. I have copies."

"I'll hand this to his secretary." She headed toward the door and grabbed her purse. "Cyrus, this wasn't personal."

He arched a brow at her.

"Ok, maybe a little bit." She laughed softly at her admission. "I still…I hope you find redemption."

She quickly exited his office when she felt tears begin to burn her eyes.

* * *

"Good Morning."

"Why, good morning Ms. Pope. You here to see the President?"

"No. Just dropping this off for Cyrus." Mrs. Handly eyed Olivia curiously.

"He's going to want to see you Ms. Pope." She began to rise.

"No," Olivia stated quickly. "I wasn't here." She quickly turned and left.

* * *

A/N: Final chapter(s) up next - Fitz and Olivia meet; The addition of a new gladiator, maybe; and a look into what becomes of all the major players. As always, let me know your thoughts – good, bad, indifferent. Laters!


	13. Clear Intentions Beneath Murky Waters

FOR GOD AND COUNTRY

Ch.12 Clear Intentions Beneath Murky Waters

**October 29, 2012 10:45 am – Pope & Associations**

"I'm starting to think that perhaps you don't trust me Ms. Pope." Jax stated in greeting.

"doveryai, no proveryai" Olivia chuckled into the phone. "Trust but verify"

"Ahh," Jax laughed softly. "Well I can assure you, I'm a man of my word."

"You ok?"

"But perhaps," he ignored her question and began to tease her. "You miss me already. I mean really, it's only been a day."

"You wish." She snuggled deeper into her office couch and closed her eyes as a relaxed smile slowly spread across her face. With her confrontation with Cyrus behind her, it was nice to relax for a minute, at least while she could.

"I do." He murmured. "Will you…miss me I mean?"

Her first instinct was to brush it off with a flippant comment about not really knowing him; but something in his voice – unfiltered longing and need – called out to her.

"Yes, I will." She sat up. "More than you know."

Neither said a word for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts.

"When do you leave?"

"This afternoon."

She tried to ignore the sickening feeling that momentarily turned her stomach. She took a few deep, cleansing breaths.

"Ok."

"Will you see me off?" He asked, only half-joking.

"Jax," she sighed. "We said our goodbyes yesterday morning."

"I know." He relented, having heard her unspoken plea. "I know."

"Jax, I—"

Olivia paused mid-sentence as she stared up at two large men in suits who were standing in her doorway. Rising to her feet she arched her eyebrows at the men and shook her head in annoyance.

"I've got to go Jax. Apparently I'm being summoned."

* * *

**11:05 am – The White House**

"Cyrus resigned." Fitz stated as he waltzed into the Oval Office.

"Oh?" Olivia stood from her seat in the corner and cautiously walked to the seat next to his desk.

"Yeah, something about being tired and wanting a baby." Fitz watched her closely as he recounted what he was sure she not only already knew but probably orchestrated.

"Hmm"

"Hmm?" He arched his brow at her. "That's all you have to say?"

"I mean, wow." Olivia scrunched her shoulders and raised her hands. "That's umm…I don't, wow."

"Yeah, wow."

Fitz could tell by way she held his stare that she was nervous. She was overcompensating with excessive eye contact and infrequent blinking. He smirked and shook his head.

"Liv, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ok," he scoffed. "Look, I think I've been very patient and have let you and Cyrus duke it out…but enough is enough. I just lost my Chief of Staff."

"Fitz, I'm sorry but what are you saying?"

"Don't," he warned. "Don't treat me like _other_ or _them_. This is _me_."

"Mr. Preside—"

"Olivia, don't fucking handle me." He shot out of his chair and stood directly in front of her.

"Why don't you ask Cyrus?" Olivia stood as well, glaring at him until he took a step back – out of her personal space. "You were the one who accepted his resignation."

"Because I'm asking you." He stared at her hard. "I trust _you._"

"Do you? I mean, really _really _trust me?" She took a small step toward him. "Do you trust that I'd never hurt you?"

He squinted and cocked his head to the side.

"Ok fine," she smiled and shook her head at the look he'd leveled her. "Do you trust that I'd never hurt you, _unless_ I thought it was in your best interest?"

He nodded slowly and held her stare.

"Then let this go, accept his resignation…" She nodded in encouragement and smiled softly. "And, don't ask me questions I can't give you the answers to."

"Olivia, if there's something I should know…"

He let his sentence remain unfinished for he knew his attempt was futile. Whatever happened between Olivia and Cyrus must have been bad, really bad. Fitz knew, yet never quite understood, the depths of Olivia's affection for her mentor. He also knew she knew the depths of Cyrus' devotion to this job as Chief of Staff. He was a pitbull with a bone; and pitbulls don't just let go when they've latched on to something. No, they would have to be put down; and for all intents and purposes, Cyrus had been put down – perhaps in a manner far worse than death.

'_Did this have to do Deveaux_?' He thought bitterly. His jaws clenched in anger as he continued to stare at her.

"If there was something to tell, I'd tell you." She lied.

"I called Deveaux yesterday, did he tell you?" Fitz abruptly changed the subject.

"No" she hesitantly stated.

"Hmm, he was very gracious, which I thought was…interesting." He watched her closely so as not to miss her reaction to Deveaux. "Perhaps I won't embargo him after all; maybe I'll let him stay."

"No," Olivia answered quickly, too quickly. "I mean, it's just that he's already resigned himself to going home."

"Yes, but now he'll at least have a choice." _So will you._

He watched her watch him with her eyes wide. He could tell she was trying not to fidget under his scrutiny.

"I thought you said I was being unreasonable in my demand that he leave. Now you seem all too happy to see him go. Is there a reason you're so eager to ship him off?"

"I'm not doing this with you Fitz."

"Doing what?" He challenged.

"This." She gestured between them. "There's no ulterior motive, I just want him to be happy as I would any friend." She ignored the tiny voice in her head that dared suggest that perhaps she was being less than honest. "I want him to have a life, a second chance."

"And he can't have that here?" _With you?_

"No, he can't." She whispered with conviction. Whatever she felt for Jax, she knew it was nothing compared to her love for Fitz. If nothing else, Jax had become her friend and she truly did him to be happy...without her.

They both knew they were no longer talking about Jax and his impending departure. They stared deeply into each other's eyes, each trying to read the other.

Olivia watched as flames of hope flickered and then ignited in his eyes. She saw his jaw set and determination take root.

"I intend to have." He stated intensely.

He held up his hand to halt her response.

"I want to make myself very clear." He took a step toward her and stood completely within her space. "In every way, I intend to have you. In two years, I'm coming for you with a fierceness – the likes of which you've never seen. And I intend to keep you, Ms. Pope – mind, body, and soul."

_As if I'm not yours already, _she mused. "Two years?"

"Two years" he stated firmly.

He left no room for negotiation. His eyes were hard with determination and confidence, but just beneath the surface lie uncertainty and insecurity. Olivia's heart was pricked to know that she'd put those feels there. She'd walked away twice, albeit for a greater good. She'd been unable to shield him completely from her feelings for Jax. She was the root of his uncertainty. He was afraid that even after it was all said and done, she might still reject him.

"Two years." She smiled and nodded in agreement. She swallowed her arguments for reelection. She swallowed her indisputable facts about presidents who'd divorced their wives. None of it mattered. In that moment, she knew he needed her to agree.

"Shall we seal the deal?" He asked slyly and smirked when she stuck out her hand.

He grabbed her right hand in his left one and gently pinned it behind her back; bring her body flush against his. She gasped at the sudden contact and he wasted no time positioning his mouth over hers and gently gliding his tongue over hers as his lips enclosed around her top lip. He left go of her hand and brought both of his hands up to her face to cradle her head. He deepened their kiss and sighed as he felt her fingernails lightly drag along his scalp.

The need for air caused their lips to part. He leaned back just enough to see her eyes and smiled. He then grew serious as he whispered, "say it Liv…just this once…just to get me through the next two years."

She stared at him with wide eyes. There was a loud knock at the door just as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Do not come in here." He yelled at the door, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Say it." He pleaded.

"I love you." She smiled a sad smile and looked down.

He lifted her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. "Say it again."

"I love you."

He kissed her hard in response. "Two years Olivia."

* * *

A/N: Ok so this effectively ends the story. I do want to write an epilogue that ties things up a bit and takes a look into the future. I warn you though, despite my attempt at angst, I am a hopeless sucker for the happy ending so it's possible that it may be a bit cheesy. Still interested?

Finally, thank you guys sooo much for your awesome reviews...I truly value each and every one of them! xoxo


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